Game On
by TheRedConverseGirl
Summary: He never imagined that the simple task of printing online tickets would get him in such predicament. Now the secret is out and his plan is possibly ruined. [SasuSaku]
1. Part One

**Title:** Game On  
**Rating:** T  
**Words: **1942

**Notes:** Based on a tumblr post - link: ow . ly /CfeO50wYLo4 (no spaces)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto.

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"Seriously, Sasuke-kun, it can't be that difficult. Do you even know how to do a search in your inbox?"

"It's not like I don't know how to, I just can't find the fucking tickets." His eyebrows knit together as he continues to stare at the screen. "Why are they in my email inbox and not yours?"

"Well for starters, you bought the tickets. I was working and you were the only one that could be in front of a computer at the time." Sakura explains as she joins him on the couch, plopping careless just an inch away from him. He bounces with the force and grunts in disapproval. "You know how these things sold out faster than you can say _tickets_."

Sasuke knows that, he remembers the struggle very well. They buy the tickets every year – it's their tradition – but every year, Sakura is the one taking care of the purchase and technicalities, making sure that they have the best seats for the season, and they buy it in time before everything is gone.

They met each other almost four years ago, at a Leaf hockey game of all places. She was there sitting in his seat, eating a hot dog, cheering like a mad-man and cussing like a sailor. It was amusing, almost more entertaining than the game itself.

Well, it was his own fault, he was late. He didn't leave work with enough time to avoid traffic. In the end, the pinkette had moved over to his seat because someone was blocking her view on hers.

It was reasonable, he thought. However, it was still his seat and now he was there. They spent the first half of the game arguing about the seat's ownership (it seems as he ran through the hallways and down the stairs, he had dropped his ticket; thus, he was unable to prove the truthfulness of his statement).

Their squabbling got the attention of pretty much everyone around them. Still, to this day, they don't know how they ended up on the _kiss cam_. It was probably all the noise they were making, or the fact that they were both standing there jabbing each other, not watching the game.

The big screen zoomed in on 'their seat' as they both stood, puffed chest brushing puffed chest, almost breathless. Suddenly, there was a chorus of "kiss, kiss, kiss" and they finally noticed the attention they'd drawn to themselves. They both looked around each other, not believing that this was actually happening.

It was on the nth "kiss" that Sakura reached up, grasped the hair on the back of his neck, and pulled him towards her, smashing their lips together. It was not a surprise that, in the end, they shared that damn seat with Sakura sprawled on his lap sideways, stealing kisses as they watched the end of the game completely wrapped around each other.

Sasuke knew she was _the one_ since that eventful day.

"It's supposed to be here then," he says but it sounds like a question.

"It is."

"But it's not."

"You bought them weeks ago, did you scroll back to the right date?"

Silence. It's not like he doesn't know how to use a computer… it's just that technicalities, dates, emails… those are Sakura's things and since they got together, she's the one doing them for him. He tries to remember when he bought the tickets, but no number comes to his mind.

"Month?"

Now she's mocking him and he gives her that look 'I'm not that dumb', because they both know by heart when the ticket sales start.

"Come on, give me give me." She urges him to slide the laptop from his lap to hers.

She grabs it before he has the chance to lift the device, and her fingers are already posed over the keys, one finger sliding expertly on the touchpad.

"Ok, so we just filter your inbox by month," she starts, narrating her actions as if she was teaching him all over again. The patience and the kindness in her words bring a silly, amused smile to his lips. "And then, we press the search icon, type in the keyword 'order' and..."

As she trails off, he watches the bright screen while the computer indexes the search string. It should only take a second or two; it's not like he orders tons of things online.

They are both looking at the screen expectantly when a couple results show up. The first one makes them both freeze in place. The email is dated two weeks ago and the subject reads "Order confirmation: ready for pick up."

Nothing to worry about, right? Except, the name of the sender: "The One Jewelry Store – The best rings in Konoha."

_SHIT. FUCK. SHIT. _

_WHAT'S HAPPENING? _

She seems calm while he _looks_ calm, but internally he's panicking and swearing and thinking of one hundred and one excuses.

He almost chokes on his own spit as she continues to type the word "Leaf" and "Hockey" in the search bar, the incriminating email disappearing between the new results.

_Is he relieved? A little. Should they talk about it? Don't know, should they?_

Maybe she didn't notice; she didn't open the email after all. This is what he tells himself, but then again, that is a pretty famous store and they only sell two things: wedding bands and engagement rings.

They are not married.

Sure, it feels like it, after years living together. Sasuke kind of moved himself in (slowly to not scare her or himself, because what they have started so abruptly). So, in increments, he moved in and never left.

But then, that means that she probably knows what he 'ordered' and 'picked up' two weeks ago.

_Oh, shit._

Sasuke visibly flinches, waiting for a blow of questions or something. He opens his eyes, only now realizing that he had closed them in the first place. He notices that she's still typing, moving her finger around, clicking here and there.

The printer comes to life with a beep in the other room and he hears as it starts to print their confirmation email for the season's tickets.

"Ok done!" She says so quickly that he almost doesn't understand both words. She smashes the lid closed and hands him the laptop.

Sakura gets up, humming some crappy romantic music she picked up from the radio last week and hasn't stopped listening to ever since. She disappears in the corner of the hallway, only to come back two seconds later, folding the papers they need to show the box office to pick up the tickets tomorrow. She leaves the papers by the front door, on the shelf beside their keys.

Sasuke watches, still astonished, as she passes by him without a second glance, completely avoiding eye contact.

He's still on the couch, unmoving, ten minutes later when she comes back from her shower, hair damp and in her pajamas.

She turns on the TV and goes to the kitchen. Sasuke narrows his eyes and chews his bottom lip. He's not sure if he's happy that she's avoiding the elephant in the room or not. _Does she even know?_

The uncertainty is eating him alive, but he continues to feign nonchalance even when his girlfriend bakes four batches of cookies. She does this when she's antsy or anxious, waiting for something important, he knows all too well.

Sometime later, he can't say how long, Sakura finally joins him back on the couch with a bowl full of cookies. He almost snorts, because it's too adorable, but thinks better of it.

"Cookies?" She offers, and he reaches for one without chocolate chips.

A movie starts and they watch it in silence. The comfort they usually have around each other returns, and Sasuke is finally able to relax. Instinctively, he circles her waist with his arm and brings her closer.

Half way into the movie, he notices she's glancing at him every now and then. She smiles even though it's a horror movie, and he catches the faint giggle that escapes her lips. Something inside his chest squeezes in reflex.

"Why are you smiling like that? You look stupid." He genuinely wants to know, kind of guesses it already, but decides to tease her anyway.

"It's because I'm stupidly happy," she singsongs before a real, full giggle escapes her.

"Oh, why?" There is mischief in his eyes and he's sure she can tell.

"Well, no reason, really." She curls a finger around a pink lock, twirling her hair playfully. "You're here, with me, _FOREVER_, so I'm happy."

"You're crazy," he says, ruffling her hair and she pouts. "But you're my crazy." His voice is soft and it's that tone he reserves only for her. She bumps her shoulder to his arm, retaliating lightheartedly.

She giggles and he chuckles, and in no time they are both laughing. Sakura is wiping a tear when he asks, "Why are we laughing?"

"I don't know."

"But you _do_ know, right?"

He pinches her chin, urging her to face him. They lock eyes, and he searches for anything that confirms that she understands what's happening. Her green, green eyes sparkle as it catches the TV's wavering light, and her whole face lights up. She gives him a coy smile.

He can't help but kiss her, because he loves this damn, silly woman that argues over stolen seats and bakes cookies because she can't sit still when something is on her mind.

He presses their lips urgently, and her hands are in his hair as she moves into his lap. There's barely any space left between them, and there's so much passion that Sasuke can't think of anything else than this woman: this annoying, infuriating woman. This gorgeous, beautiful woman that stole his heart at a Hockey game, two minutes after they first met.

And he knows, that his decision is the best one he's made in his entire life. He also knows that is long overdue; he should have asked her to be his, and only his, years ago. The kiss slows down to a sweet and sensual dance that makes him fall in love all over again.

_His wife._

She is going to be his wife.

They part for much needed air. Sakura smiles and plants a peck on the tip of his nose. He can't help but mimic the gesture.

"So, can we play hot and cold?"

"Get the ice and meet me in the bedroom." He winks at her, then smirks smugly.

"No, not that hot and cold, pervert!" She slaps his arm playfully and he gives her a boyish grin. "So?"

"Absolutely not." No, he's not playing her game, she's not going to ruin what he's planned.

"Sasuke-kun!" She whines sweetly, "but, it's here, right?"

He averts his gaze, because he knows that he's incapable of lying to her, but the move probably gives the answer away. "You're a smart girl, you can figure this one out."

She groans, frustrated. She moves away from his lap, standing up and placing both hands on her hips. She twirls around herself; scanning everything, but looking for _one_ thing.

Sasuke only observes as she stalks to their bedroom. Another groan follows. She's probably continuing her search, knowing that there's a _ring_ in their apartment, just waiting for her to find it.

He sighs, slouching back on the couch, thinking over his plan. He knows exactly what to do. He can only hope that the stubborn woman in the other room won't ruin it.

He pats his back pocket thoughtfully, sighing in relief as he finds the lump there.

He smirks.

_Game. On._

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**A/N:** Let me know if you guys enjoyed it!

_I might have plans for a prequel and sequel in mind_ o.o

Quick update for recurring readers: I'm swamped in a few projects at work and outside work, and naturally, updates for multi-chapters are slower (I also want to provide quality updates, so I need more time :S). So, bear with me!

Thank you,

xoxo


	2. Prequel

**Prequel of Game On - KISS CAM AU**

**Title:** Half-time  
**Rating:** T  
**Words: **2037

**Notes:** I don't know the first thing about Hockey (please forgive me!).

This is a prequel of the previous chapter, telling the tale of how they met.

_**~Happy Reading!**_

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She came to watch the game. To see the _players_. To drink beer and eat a greasy hot dog. And these people are slowly, but surely, ruining her night.

The Leaf is kicking ass and up by fifteen points. But she can barely see that. Why? Well, because there are two freakishly tall people sitting in front of her!

If that is not enough, they are wearing two ridiculous long hats! Those green-white hats they sell outside while people are waiting in line. _Ugh!_

"Come on, come on, move that pretty ass, Inuzuka!" Sakura shouts when she gets a glance of one of her favorite players as he finally takes the puck the right way. "Faster!"

"Are you fucking blind?" She curses loudly, throwing her arms up in exasperation when he misses an easy pass. "That makes two of us," she mutters then, irritated; she can't see half of the things happening in the court.

She looks around herself, because she can't be the only one bothered by this ridiculous blockade**. **But as she observes all the people enjoying the game, she confirms that in fact, she is the only one. Why? Well, try being five-feet-four for starters.

In her search, she finds more than one answer though: yes, she's the only one not enjoying the game in that section. And _yes!_ There's a free seat just a row below hers.

Her eyes move left and right in anticipation, because she's about to steal that seat, and she feels like a five-year-old kid stealing a cookie before dinner. She takes a deep breath and sprints towards her goal. Nobody really notices her; she's almost crouching and she's also… small.

She sits smugly. With a triumphant smirk tugging her lips, she crosses one leg over the other, resting her forearms on the armrests. Sakura feels like a queen; she's on her throne and her new view is _ah-mazing!_ It's completely clear of any possible obstruction.

Five minutes pass, and then ten. The game is flowing smoothly, her eyes are glued to the rink. When ten minutes turn into fifteen, she doesn't even remember that the seat is not hers.

She's half seating, half hoisting herself on top of the seat, when the team makes a recovery. Sakura curses and then roars, trembling in excitement, as Uzumaki brings the puck forward and it enters the goal.

It's the most emotional, nerve-wrecking combination of passes of the night, and she throws her arms up, tight fists proudly in the air. The home team gains the upper hand again!

"_Cha!_" She shouts, joining the deafening cheering of the arena.

She thinks she hears someone clearing their throat. Sakura ignores it, turning her attention back to the puck as it glides on the ice. Inuzuka is leading again, and she holds her breath as he—

Suddenly, there's a _black wall_ in front of her.

_What the—_

Sakura blinks once, then twice, raising her gaze up to meet the sexiest death glare she's ever seen. She does a double take, because this guy… and those dark eyes are unbelievably tempting.

_Fuck. Me._

Although she's certain she could lose herself in those eyes, she narrows her own and says, "excuse me," because he's in front of her and she's missing the game, _again_.

He doesn't move.

"You make a better wall than a window," she points out impatiently.

"Excuse me."

"You heard me, now shoo," she moves her arms in a sweeping motion, urging him to disappear from her perfect view.

He doesn't, and she hears a little _tsk_ sound coming from above her. She looks up, annoyed, and almost forgets that this tall guy, with smoldering dark eyes, and messy dark hair, is _beautiful_ and might just take her breath away.

"Yes?" she asks then, eyes narrowing again.

"I said, 'excuse me'. This seat is mine."

_Oh._

"Is it?" But the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. She sounds skeptical; probably because she had forgotten that this is not her original seat. She remembers that two seconds too late, and her pride doesn't allow her to take it back now. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, it is _my_ seat." He says through gritted teeth, and Sakura notices that his arms are slightly shaking as he holds two fists to his sides. He's most likely telling the truth, but still, she needs to double check; this is a great seat after all, and she's not giving it up for nothing. So, she asks:

"Can I see your ticket?"

"What?"

"I don't believe you."

"I don't need to prove anything to you. Now, _move_."

Their voices are escalating and he's almost barking at her at this point. She doesn't move though, but she stands up, keeping a bent knee on the stolen seat, staking her weak claim to it.

"If you are telling the truth, then there's no harm in showing me the ticket!" She yells back, exasperated, but also because he might not hear it. He huffs, leaning an inch closer as he starts to search his pockets. She almost falters.

When he moves his hands to his back pockets, patting them with both hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Sakura gets back a bit of the confidence she had just lost. She moves her hands to rest on her hips, and notices that during all this fuss, they haven't broken eye contact even once.

She's about to tell him that she doesn't have all day, but then a song filters through the arena's speakers, and she turns her head to the forgotten courtyard. It seems, she thinks, it's half-time and—

Sakura looks at the small side screen and startles. She moves her gaze towards the giant screen above the court for confirmation. Sure enough, she sees herself and the cranky stranger there, with hearts all around their faces.

"Oh shit, we are on the kiss cam," she curses, wide eyes pushing her pink eyebrows up.

"What—"

"We can't kiss… I don't even know you," she whispers more to herself, not expecting him to hear it.

"Kiss her!" Someone yells from a few rows behind them, "kiss her or I will!"

"Get it girl!" Another enthusiastic person screams from somewhere around them.

The guy, still standing in front of her, looks not affected; like this is not happening and these people are not yelling about _them_.

_Did he just sigh? Was he annoyed?_ She narrows her eyes.

"Kiss her, kiss her!"

The chant starts slowly with the people in their section, but in just a few seconds the entire arena is demanding they kiss.

"Kiss, Kiss, Kiss!"

Sakura is blushing so hard she is sure her face will melt off at any moment. She looks around at all the traitorous spectators that surround her, silently willing them to shut the fuck up.

He arches a dark eyebrow, the question _'what are you gonna do?_' is left unsaid, but she takes it as a challenge; her hand lifts on its own accord to the side of his neck.

Her eyes search his for a heartbeat, giving him one chance to push her away if he wishes so. And they are so dark, bottomless even; it feels like they are waiting for her, willing for her to find whatever it is that she's looking for.

She raises herself on her tiptoes, bringing his neck down towards her, closing the distance between them in a swift, fluid movement that would put any romcom couple to shame. Her eyes close out of habit, but also because she wants to disappear as hundreds of people watch her kiss this stranger. She only hopes this won't end up online.

Sakura isn't sure what she expected but she was never, ever kissed like this before.

The kiss is chaste at first; lips smashed together but barely moving. Then, his lips press softly against hers, moving slowly and capturing her bottom lip. He holds it between his own for a moment and she thinks that is it, he'd pull away and the kiss would be over.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he pulls back a fraction and watches her through half-lidded eyes, only to dive back in, this time with more enthusiasm than before.

His arm embraces her, holding her tight to him. He lifts her slightly and the arena loses it; cheering, screaming, egging them on.

She is cupping his face with one hand, while the other one threads her fingers in his hair, marveling at its softness. She uses that hand to tilt his head just right, because dammit, if he isn't tall**.** With the angle change, she feels his tongue teasing her, swiping leisurely over the seam of her lips.

She decides then, that she has two options: get off this stranger and end the kiss or give in and get lost in him.

Sakura opens her mouth for him, whimpering as she feels him entering, his tongue tangling with hers.

And then she knows; she never had a choice.

She hums as a thumb ghosts her jawline. Fingers brush her cheek, scratch her scalp, fisting a handful of pink locks.

And she wonders how they will take her off that arena, because she can't move and won't move anytime soon. Sakura feels herself melting against him, and suddenly she's falling… and it's fast, and _deep-deep-deep_.

He swipes his tongue in and out, and then he goes back to paying special attention to her bottom lip. He continues on and on this endless cycle of the sexiest _kiss_ she ever had. _Or are they making out now?_

The arena is hollering at this point, whistling loudly, yelling obscenities, and she is sure the camera is still on them; it certainly wouldn't pull away when they are giving the audience such a show.

Their heated embrace probably – _definitely_ – passed the point of acceptable PDA, but she doesn't care. The only thing that matters at the moment is his perfect mouth on hers, and the way he grips her towards him as if he owns her.

It does end, eventually – to the dismay of everyone, _including hers_. They break apart to breathe – or maybe because it was becoming too much – but their hands remain on each other. They are panting, breathless, staring lazily at one another.

The crowd gives them a thunderous round of applauses and catcalls. She feels the urge to smile, and so she does. It's bashful, but it's sincere, and she watches with bated breath as his lips curl up into a smirk.

"You have an exceptionally delicious mouth," she blurts out because he had just kissed her stupid. She needs, Sakura realizes, more oxygen in her brain; thinking straight is not a priority right now.

"Ditto," his reply is barely a whisper, but she catches it. Her lips mirror his own.

He takes the seat then, and while he slouches down, he makes sure to keep their eyes locked. He's still an infuriating bastard… with fiery dark yes, and a wonderful, skilled mouth. _He's also impossibly hot_ and she's craving him—

So, just like that, she brushes off their fight and plops down in his lap, making herself comfortable. Before he can protest, she turns sideways and peers up at him.

"I don't know if this is your seat," he opens his mouth to object, but she's faster. "You don't have the ticket on you, so we're sharing it."

Without hesitation, Sakura drops her head on his shoulder and nuzzles his neck with the tip of her nose, taking in his mouthwatering scent. It's a bold move, she thinks, instigating a level of intimacy that _strangers_ don't share.

But then again, she feels him relaxing under her – an internal battle leaving him. And for that, she's glad.

"So, do you come to these games often?" He asks in a teasing tone that makes her giggle.

"Yeah, I've got season tickets."

"Same. Big Leaf fan?"

"Yup! I've grown up here, so it's hard not to be."

"Aa."

He throws an arm around her waist; a hand squeezes her side possessively, and she can't hold the shiver that runs down her back.

_That's it._

The most epic half-time of her life. Nothing else can beat it.

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**A/N: **I had a lot of fun writing this. Let me know what you think!

P.S. I don't have a beta, so please tell me if there are any mistakes. Thank you :)

xoxo


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